The Time
by browneyesonly4
Summary: Tony has a girlfriend. Non-Tiva! A bit AU. Please read Authors' Note.
1. The Hardest Thing

_**Author's Note:**__ Now, I am a resolute Tiva fan, and we all know it. However…I um…for this one, I'm not going to be very Tiva, unfortunately. I want the story to progress as though it were coming from the writers of NCIS and (as infuriating it is) Tiva isn't going to happen for a long, long time. Tony does have a reason. I promise!_

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own anything except for this storyline, the character of Lacey, and any other characters you may not recognize!_

_

* * *

_Tony rolled over and wrapped his arm around the woman lying beside him. He yawned into her hair and kissed her shoulder. "Morning, sunshine…" he whispered.

She let out a sigh and raised a hand to his cheek. "Hey, there," she said, her voice full of sleep. "I have a question for you."

"Ooh, we're starting the morning with questions, huh?" he joked, laughing. "Sure, Lace. Go ahead." Lacey was a strong woman from years of Naval training, long blond hair and sparkling green eyes that let him see almost right into her soul. She had a heart of gold, and wore it on the sleeve of her scrub tops every day that she worked at Bethesda Naval Hospital. Tony had been wary of even talking to her for that reason—the memories of Jeanne—but after one date, he was hooked. She was nothing like Jeanne, and he was completely honest with her from the start about his background. He'd even touched upon the whole Benoit ordeal, and not only had she understood, she'd told him she respected him more because of his honesty.

Lacey nodded and pulled herself up to sit against his headboard. "Yes, Tony. We're starting with questions." She smiled and asked, "If you could go anywhere in the world, for any amount of time short of eternity, where would you go?"

"Hmm…" Tony rumbled, turning so that his head rested in her lap. "Well, it would be somewhere warm and beautiful and sunny," he told her. "Maybe Hawaii or the beaches of Italy."

"Italy, huh?" She ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm not sure I could swing that on my nurse's salary, but Hawaii…"

He raised an eyebrow. "Now, really? You want to take me to Hawaii?" To him, this was a pretty big step. The whole 'let's travel together' thing. While they slept in the same bed at night, they hadn't _slept together_ yet, of which Tony was very proud. He felt he was taking it slow. Maybe for a honeymoon or something, and even then, he was _not_ planning his wedding yet. But Lacey nodded and he stared at the ceiling, pursing his lips in thought. "Maybe someday. If I've got vacation time I haven't used."

"I didn't mean now, silly," Lacey said through tinkling laughter, running the pad of her thumb over his cheek affectionately. "I meant someday. And besides, working in a hospital means you're on call the majority of the time." She cocked her head to the side. "I think the farthest I've ever been is to Pennsylvania, and that was for a funeral."

Tony looked at her, pulling himself up to twirl her over and sit her in his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I've been to California, Paris, and Israel, and not yet have I ever found a girl as beautiful as you." He pressed his lips to the patch of skin right below her ear and rocked her gently. "You're going to be late to work," he murmured, glancing at his clock.

"It's the NICU. They've got extras." She smiled. "You know, you really are a nice man."

Tony grinned. "Why, thank you." Lacey turned her head to kiss his jaw. "But you aren't going to seduce me into letting you skip an hour of work by sweet-talking me, sweetheart, so I'd suggest you get your cute little butt out of bed and into the shower." She froze. "_Without_ me, don't worry." And she relaxed.

"Right." She hopped off of him, straightened her top, and reached for her overnight bag. "I'll be out in a sec." Thirty minutes later, she had emerged, her hair pulled into a smooth ponytail and pink scrubs adorning her curves. One of the things Tony loved about Lacey was the fact she didn't wear much makeup other than a single layer of mascara and a bit of lip gloss, which only accentuated what she already had. He, too, had changed and was dressed in a suit and tie that made his eyes stand out. "You look nice," she murmured, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. She was short, shorter than Jeanne had been, Tony noticed. Not that he was comparing her by any means. It was just an observation.

He hugged her and handed her a travel mug of coffee that he had brewed. "Thanks. You always look nice." Lacey grinned, placed both of her hands on his hips and stood there for what seemed like forever, just looking up at him. "May I help you?" Tony joked.

"What're we going to do tonight, Tony?" she asked, slinging the bag over her shoulder and leading him to the door. "I was thinking maybe clubbing."

"Uh." Tony was taken aback. The last time he'd been clubbing was when he was…twenty something? Nothing past thirty, for sure. Now, nearing forty, he thought clubbing was a bit… "Well, gee, Lacey, I—"

"I don't want to hear it!" Lacey grinned. "Be ready for _Resurrection_ by eight. I know you don't have to go to work tomorrow, so there are no excuses." She took the lead down the hall to the parking garage and settled in the passenger seat of his car, satisfied.

Tony followed suit and sat in the drivers' side, putting the key in the ignition and starting the car. "Now, I have to warn you that I'm not exactly the best dancer…"

"You'll be fine!" she laughed. "Besides…" Her hand crept up his thigh. "Clubbing isn't dancing…it's drinking and dancing. Just having a good time!" Not quite convinced, Tony just shrugged and drove her to the hospital, where she kissed him and stepped out of the car. "See you later, Tony. At eight. Don't delay!" Before Tony could say anything, she had hurried through the rotating door and out of sight.

* * *

When he arrived at work, he walked in looking very satisfied with himself. Not only did he have a beautiful date that evening, but he had something to rub in McSingle's face. He'd have to keep his mouth shut around Ziva, though. He didn't want to say anything in front of her. They'd come to a mutual decision to keep their relationship strictly platonic, since the evolution of Rule Number Twelve was … well, the rule had put a wrench in things from the start. She was beautiful and amazing and everything he looked for in a woman, but he couldn't have her, so why sit there pining over someone he couldn't ever have? Tony hoped she would see that eventually, too.

"Oh, hey, McGriddle," he murmured, eyeing the younger agent's breakfast sandwich jealously. "Thought you didn't eat fast food anymore. What, did you give up on your diet or something?"

McGee rolled his eyes and continued chewing before swallowing and telling Tony, "You wouldn't understand the morning I've had."

Tony looked around and, catching no sight of Ziva, said, "No, McGee, I wouldn't, because I woke up to bright sunshine coming through my window and birds singing and the DVD menu still coursing across my television screen."

"Oh, so your date stood you up, too, huh?" McGee asked, wiping his mouth and setting the sandwich down on his desk. Tony shook his head and his teammate had to question. "Well, then, what made your morning so spectacular?"

"My date did _not_ cancel, McTimmy," Tony said through a grin. He sat in his chair, crossed his legs, and laced his fingers behind his head. "In fact, she stayed the night."

"Then the only reason your morning was good was because you shacked up with some blond last night from a bar you went to."

Lacey was _not_ 'some blond', nor had he picked her up at a bar, nor had it been a one-night-stand. "Actually, I've been dating her for about three months now, thanks, and no, I didn't sleep with her." Adjusting his tie, Tony continued, "In fact, we haven't made that step yet, and I don't know when that _will_ happen, but trust me, you'll be the last to know."

McGee stared at him in a mixture of bemusement and wonder before going back to eating his sandwich.

* * *

"_Paging Miss Zimmerman_," the loudspeaker called, and Lacey groaned. She had gotten to the hospital no more than fifteen minutes ago and already she was being bustled from room to room to check on her charges. "_Paging Miss—_"

"Yeah, yeah, I've got it," she grunted, making her way down the hall to the nurse's station. "I was paged?"

A woman looked up at her and smiled. "Hi there, Miss Zimmerman. I'm Vauna Granger," she murmured, holding out her hand. "I'm your new nurse manager." Lacey immediately took Vauna's hand and shook it, out of respect and fear. Whenever a new nurse manager was hired, that meant that job cuts were about to take place, and Lacey _needed_ her job.

"Hello…" she said with a small smile. "Was there a problem?"

"No, no, not at all," Vauna said, and shooed Lacey back down the hallway, walking with her. "I was just wondering if I could follow you around, shadow you, you know?"

Lacey nodded. "Uh…sure! I mean, I'm kind of…I have to take a blood sample from this little one," she said, extracting a syringe from the cart in the hall. "And then, I have to check his urine."

"Sounds great," the new nurse manager said, standing in the doorway. She watched Lacey perform all of her duties and then followed her down to the next incubator. "Who is this beautiful child?"

"That would be Sebastian," Lacey explained. "He has bradycardia, so I've gotta monitor his heart rate." She unclipped the board from the hook on the end of his incubator and recorded the heart rate. "He's getting up to normal, but he's still really slow."

Vauna was silent, and then stepped up to read the file over Lacey's shoulder. "Hmm…have you tried aminophylline?"

"We tried that, but it didn't work for very long. I think it's just going to take a while for little Sebastian to overcome it."

The other woman drew her lips to the side in obvious thought. "Is he allowed off of his back?" Lacey nodded and Vauna put on a pair of synthetic gloves. She gently rolled the baby onto his side and rubbed circles on his back with her finger. "There you go, sweetheart," she murmured, and Lacey thought perhaps she knew from personal experience, rather than just nursing school. After all, it's generally a deeper choice to become part of the NICU staff than just deciding it one day when you wake up.

In her experience, that was. As her parents had told her, her older brother had been born premature, with patent ductus arteriosus. That meant that a blood vessel within his heart hadn't closed after birth. The doctors had tried everything; Indomethacin, PDA ligation…nothing had worked. He'd died on the operation table, and Lacey had never forgiven the world for the loss. Her mother had been very young—nineteen—when she'd had Alexander, and Lacey had therefore had made a decision when she went through sex-ed; she would only sleep with her husband, and she would only get married after she turned twenty five.

At one point, she'd thought she would never get married, that she'd never find a man willing to wait that long. She'd been so bitter for so long and had missed some of the best years of her life, but she had gotten her nursing certification and scored a great job at Bethesda, as well as making her way up the Navy food chain. And then, on top of that, three years later she had found Tony. Her life was working out well. Maybe, in a way, this was supposed to happen. Maybe Al's death had been _meant_ to happen, so that she would make those goals for herself and be inspired to save babies' lives. Maybe, just maybe.

Vauna's voice brought her back to present. "So, Lacey, how long have you worked here?"

"Three years," she said, checking off both names on her card and then, to shut up her suddenly noisy beeper, pressed the button on its side. "I'm going to go take my five between shifts. I have a call…I guess it's important. It was really nice to meet you, Miss Granger. I look forward to working with you." Lacey was reminded of Harry Potter and couldn't help but notice that Vauna had frizzy brown hair, big hazel eyes, and seemed to be quite intelligent. This was definitely a story for Tony.

She hurried down the hallway to the break room and, after pulling out a yogurt from the refrigerator, plopped down on the couch. She dialed Tony's number and held her phone up to her ear, peeling back the plastic cover of the yogurt container and whipping a spoon out from her pocket. "Hey, you. Did you need something?" she asked when he picked up.

"Just to hear your voice. I would've been fine with voicemail, but then I remembered you usually had a break around now so I waited," Tony's raspy voice said through the speaker. "How's work going?"

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Had two babies to take care of and I met my new manager," Lacy told him, twirling her spoon in the yogurt. "Her last name is 'Granger', and we call our nurses 'Miss'-whatever their last name is. So when I talk to her, I say 'Miss Granger', and it makes me think of Harry Potter, which makes me think of you, because of the movies…"

Tony chuckled on the other end. "Well, I'm glad you think of me when Harry Potter comes into the conversation, love." This was a first; never before had he called Lacey 'love', or any pet name, really—unless it was in teasing. "So I take it your day's going alright, huh?"

Lacey nodded. "Yeah, it is. How's NCIS doing?"

"We're all still living and breathing."

"I want to meet your people!" She took a spoonful of yogurt in her mouth and she grinned. It was raspberry cheesecake. Usually, she was really skeptical about flavors, but this one was spot on. "You've met mine."

"Well, yeah, but that's because I spend a lot of time at hospitals," Tony said, and Lacey could tell he was smiling. It had travelled into his voice. "You'll meet them. I promise."

"I'm not going to push you." Lacey licked the spoon. "However, I do need to push the 'End' button. My five's over. See you later!"

"Bye, Lace."

They hung up at the same time.

* * *

It was seven-fifty-two, and Tony still didn't know what to wear. Was he supposed to go for sexy? Or was he supposed to go for looking his age? And how did one dress to look 'thirty-nine'? He flew into his bedroom and grabbed a light-green dress shirt and a pair of jeans. He left the top three buttons undone, and slipped on a pair of Italian suede lace-up shoes. He spritzed a bit of cologne on his shirt and was in his chair—sitting casually—by seven-fifty-five, when Lacey knocked on his door.

"Hel-_lo_," he murmured as he took in her appearance. She'd curled her hair, done a smoky-eye, and was wearing only a small amount of nude-colored lip gloss. Her dress was a simple, black tube-dress with a sequined bodice. Strappy heels adorned her feet. He'd never seen her in those types of clothes before and could already tell he was going to be in for a lot of learning that evening.

She tilted her head up and kissed him. "You ready to go?" Tony nodded. "Excellent. The limo's waiting."

"Uh…limo?"

Lacey nodded and stared at him in confusion. "Yeah, it's the only way you can get into _Resurrection_."

"Well, damn." Tony wasn't sure how big of a thing this was. "How many other people are going?"

She shook her head, gently shoving his chest. "Oh, no, Tony. Just us. It's a two-person limo." He let out a sigh of relief. "What, you thought it was gonna be a whole group?"

"I was afraid…"

"Why are you so shy?" She murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck. His only impulse was to rest his hands on her hips. "There you go." Lacey checked her phone and then grabbed his hand, pulling him out of his apartment and only stopping to let him lock his door behind them. "There's champagne in the limo," she told him as the chauffer opened the door for her. "_Gracias_!"

Tony slid in next to her and realized that the quarters were quite small, and that her hip was rather close to his. The only way he could situate himself comfortably was to have his left leg under her right, his arm around her shoulders, and her entire right side pressed into his chest. And he was completely fine with that. It gave him ample opportunity to kiss her neck, smell her hair, and be a bit more…_naughty_ than he normally was. Finally, Lacey pulled away and said, "Not yet!"

"Well, then, when?" he purred, letting a soft pout form on his lips. "Wait. No, you're saved fo—" She captured his mouth with hers, swiftly cutting him off. When she was sure he wouldn't say anything more, she released him.

"Yeah, I'm saved for marriage. Big deal. Good girls have fun, too, you know," she told him, and said nothing more. She focused on her glass of champagne until they arrived at the club.

The line was relatively short, but the fact they could act like they were important also bumped them up to the front. Once inside, Tony looked around and noticed that it was a pretty clean place, and that there were already at least forty couples on the dance floor. The lights were going, but not in a way he thought would give him a seizure or headache, and the music was a mixture of late-nineties and current music. He could tell the evening would be interesting.

* * *

Tony looked so hot. That was all Lacey could think from the moment she stepped into his apartment until they got to the club. If she wasn't saved for marriage, she would have gladly spent a bit more time in the limo with him, but she knew her morals (as did he) and she wasn't about to break them.

"_I taste just like candy, so dance with me. I taste just like candy, so dance with me. Yo now let me paint y'all a picture. Fox pimp hard, quiet just like a whisper. Don't get it mixed up. Bad little sista Not bad meaning bad, but bad meaning good…_"

"Does that mean what I think it means?" Tony asked into her ear. "Because that's kind of—"

Lacey cut him off again with a look. "Let me go get drinks. What do you want, a beer?" He nodded and she traipsed off toward the bar. A man approached her, visibly eyeing her ass. "Can I help you?" she sneered. She had learned that the only way to get rid of those types of fellows was to be a bitch. And she was fully prepared to do so.

"You just look so fine, baby," he crooned, approaching her. Lacey shook her head, taking in his military haircut and well-fitting clothes. He was obviously on leave looking for some action.

"Actually, I rarely dress this way. My boyfriend and I are celebrating." She ordered a Fuzzy Navel for herself and a beer for her date and paid the bartender before taking her drinks and rejoining Tony. She hoped the creepy man who had confronted her earlier wouldn't talk to her again as she sipped her drink. "Tony, let's just sit here for a while," she said, taking his hand in hers.

"Alright," Tony answered, sipping his beer. "These songs are rather…"

"Explicit?" Lacey finished for him. "Yeah, but those are the best to dance to. Puts you in the right mindset." He nodded and ran his thumb over her knuckles, watching her with a keen eye. "What?"

He just smirked. "Someone already tried to get in your pants, huh?" Lacey bowed her head. "I've seen a couple of Marines walk in. They're probably just on leave, female deprived, and horny. Trust me, I've dealt with these kinds before." He thought back to the last case he'd worked that involved a Marine who had raped a female Naval officer. It had pitted the two sectors against each other but they'd eventually worked it all out. He just hoped that nothing happened to Lacey. He looked across the table at her and noticed her drink was gone already. "Thirsty?" he joked.

"Yeah, but I want to dance now." The beer had been cheap, so Lacey had no qualms about just leaving it behind. She gave her purse to coat check and dragged Tony onto the dance floor. "You _have_ danced with a woman before, right?" she asked.

"Of course," Tony reassured, and put his hands on her hips again just as another song started. She stepped very close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck so that their position was very similar to when she had picked him up that evening.

As they grinded and held each other, Lacey felt herself growing even more attached to him. Yes, grinding wasn't the cleanest act they could have done. She felt herself growing warmer and warmer, and it had nothing to do with her physical exertions or the rising temperature of the club. It just about made her faint when Tony pressed his lips to her neck, and she knew what it had been from. She was thirty. He was thirty-nine. And they both were old enough to know what sex was.

Tony twirled her as a more classic song came on. "Oh, yeah! Deano, my man!" He clasped his hand around Lacey's and smoothed his other hand on her lower back, pulling her into him but in a tasteful way. This didn't surprise her much, since he was a very traditional man. They danced and twirled and laughed for the entirety of the song, and for the rest of the night they stood the exact same way.

And when they went home that night, both were so exhausted that they didn't bother to discuss their feelings.

* * *

_**Disclaimer:** Oh yeah, I forgot, I don't own **Candy** by Foxy Brown, either._


	2. Wastin' Time

_**A/N: **__Allo! Chapter 2 already. I just wanted to say thank you to those who have put this story on their Story Alerts list! It means a lot. For those who are giving this story a shot 'just because'…that also means a lot, because I know a lot of NCIS fans out there are really devout Tiva fans. I want you to know that even if this isn't a 'Tony says I love you to Ziva, who returns the gesture' fic, there __**will**__ be small amounts of that tension interspersed. I'm trying to recreate the show here. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Peace. Out. Xx, Brown Eyes Only._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own NCIS, or Wal-Mart._

_

* * *

Tony woke to the sound of his coffee maker pressing water through the grounds, the succulent smell melding with that of butter and toast. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly walked out to the kitchen, where he saw Lacey standing in front of the stove wearing one of his dress shirts. The sight was just enough to send him into a half-baked fantasy. Not even Jeanne had worn one of his shirts; it was an honor that was to be earned, not taken. And Lacey had more than earned that._

She turned around and grinned at him, ashamed. "Sorry, Tony…I didn't have anything else to wear and you were asleep almost as soon as we got home so…I stole one of the shirts you had hanging on the edge of the hamper." Lacey bit her lip and stirred the scrambled eggs. "Is it okay?"

Tony laughed. "Is it okay?" he repeated. "Of course it is." Crossing the room to her he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "You know, I kind of like it." He pressed his lips to her jaw and down her neck.

"Wal-Mart has a few like this but they're made for women," Lacey explained. "I should pick up a few. That way, I won't be stealing all of your shirts." Tony shrugged. He didn't have a problem with her wearing his clothes. She'd stolen a pair of his sweatpants before, and an oversized tee-shirt another time. This was just another 'new' thing that he had to deal with and he was having no problem doing so.

"I've got a lot of dress shirts," Tony said through a smile, and then murmured in a strong Brooklyn accent, "Fuhgeddaboutit." Lacey giggled and kissed him, then, placing a hand on his chest, pushed him away.

At his pout, she said, "Go sit down. Breakfast is almost done."

"Well, gee," he murmured. "You can dance, kiss, _and_ cook. Seems like my life is going pretty well."

_Like it's finally all falling into place._

* * *

Lacey rarely got a day off, so when she was texted around two that Vauna had switched her with another nurse, she was more than thrilled and had therefore slept in until at least nine, which was later than she usually got up. Tony had been sound asleep, so she had crept into his walk-in closet, grabbed a pair of his basketball shorts and a teeshirt and thrown both on over a pair of fresh underwear and sports bra that she kept buried in the drawer of the bedside table on her side. After her morning run to the market, she had walked back and started breakfast.

Just as the coffee had started to percolate and the toast had gotten hot, Lacey heard Tony roll out of bed. _Finally_, she thought, _I want my morning kiss already!_ And a kiss she had gotten.

Around eleven, Tony checked his phone and started dialing a number, a concerned look crossing his features. Lacey looked at him, and then went back to scrolling through the channels on his pay-per-view. He left the room to talk to whoever was on the other line and when he returned, he was noticeably shaken. "What's up, buttercup?" she asked, scratching an itch on her leg. "You look down." He sat down next to her and leaned in, and she wrapped her arms around him. "You _are_ down, aren't you?" Lacey murmured into his neck.

"Lace," Tony said, his voice thick, "I guess I don't know how to tell you this, but…" She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. "…Your nurse manager…Vauna Granger."

"Yeah? What about her?" Lacey awkwardly rubbed his shoulder.

"There was an incident at Bethesda. She was caught in the crossfire and …" Tony swallowed the lump that had lodged in his throat as she gasped and closed her eyes. "Vauna's dead, Lacey…" The woman's eyes snapped open and she just stared at him. "Apparently, she sacrificed herself for a baby that was admitted in the NICU. The other nurses were targeted as well, so the unit's on lockdown."

Fear shot across her face. "But what about the babies? The premies? Where're they being kept?" Lacey propelled herself off of the couch and into Tony's bedroom to change and gather her belongings. As she went, she muttered angrily, "Bastard…he _knew_! He must have _known_. He must hate children or something. Dammit. Son of a bitch…motherfuc—" Finally, Tony stopped her and held her. She knew she'd never sworn around him that badly and felt a bit chagrined that she had fallen to such a level.

"Look, Lacey, I can't let you go down there. My team's investigating it, but you _need_ to calm down and let us do our jobs." Both Tony's eyes and voice pleaded with her to stop.

"Well," she argued, "I can't just let them get away with this. I have babies to save. _Lives_ to save, Tony." Lacey spun and flew into his walk-in closet. "And besides which," she called behind her, "these are my people. They need me." When she turned around she ran right into Tony's chest. "What."

The man gazed down at her in a mixture of fear and understanding. "I know they do. I know how you feel, Lacey. I've been there." He rubbed a circle on her back. "But that doesn't mean you can just storm in there. It's an ongoing investigation." Tony sighed. "And while they need you…"

"Yeah?"

"Lace, so do I. I need you. And if you go in there…" He sighed. "If you go in there, they'll kill you, too. And I can't let that happen." His voice had grown husky over the past few moments and Lacey knew he was being serious. "Look, Lacey, I know you're upset. I know you are. But me and my team are taking care of it, okay?"

She wanted to go to her apartment, grab her scrubs, and go to the hospital. She wanted to go help. She wanted to work. But she couldn't. She wanted to shove Tony out of the way and say, 'Screw you, I'm going!' But she couldn't. No. Because she cared about him and trusted him and _knew_ he knew what was right. What she had to do.

Finally, she shrugged and stared into his wide, green eyes with her own, and whispered, "But what about the babies?"

He wound a hand behind Lacey's head and through her hair, gently tipping it back to look at her face. His other hand he pressed flat to her lower back. "They've all been saved and transferred to a hospital in D.C."

"So they're … being taken care of."

"Yes," Tony said, nodding. "They're happy and healthy and they're at one of the best places they can be." She leaned up and kissed him softly. "But…you're not allowed to go home."

Lacey groaned. "Well, then what am I supposed to do?"

"You and my partner are about the same size, so she's bringing a suitcase full of clothes with her to the safe house."

"Safe house?"

Tony cradled her body against his, bracing her with his left leg. "Yep. If all nurses are being targeted, they'll be watching you, too."

"Aw, crap!" she whined. "I … but … safe houses suck!" At his expectant stare, she murmured, "Mom told me about them." There had been a time when Lacey's mother had needed a safe house, and apparently, they were dirty, and smelly, and grimy. "Please don't make me go. Please?" She toyed with his hair and sucked on his throat, paying most of her attention to the dip where his neck met his chest.

"Hey!" Tony jumped a bit and then eased her off of him. "I'm not going to be persuaded by physical pursuits alone, Lacey!" She stared up at him with sad eyes. "Actually," he said, lowering his voice, "I'm not going to be persuaded at _all_. My boss wants you at the safe house by noon."

"Oh, fine," she sighed, and continued to gather her belongings. Besides, this did give her the opportunity to meet his team, and for that, she was very, very excited.

* * *

Tony escorted Lacey through the door of the Naval Criminal Investigative Services Headquarters and into the elevator. She was petrified, of course, but who wouldn't be? He looked at her sidelong and noticed that she was shivering. While that could have been from the insanely cold air conditioning, he knew it was because of the news she'd received that morning. He felt awful. Taking her hand in his, he led her down the corridor to the bullpen and she seemed to relax.

"Tony?"

He glanced at her. "Yeah, Lace?"

"Do you think they'll like me?"

"There'll be time for cocktails later," Tony explained. "Our job right now is to protect you from whoever launched the attack on Bethesda's NICU." She squeezed his hand tighter and followed even closer than she had been before.

When they arrived at his desk, Abby nearly flew toward them. "Hi! I'm Abby. Forensic Scientist Abby Sciuto, to be exact, but you can just call me Abby." The Goth girl stuck her hand out and Lacey shook it. "You're Lacey, right?" Tony's girlfriend smiled warmly and nodded. "Do you not talk?" Abby sent Tony a worried look.

"No! I can talk," Lacey laughed. "It's nice to meet you, Abby."

Tony saw Ziva and McGee standing with Gibbs by the last man's desk and led the girl toward them. "Everyone, this is Lacey. Lacey, meet Ziva, McGee, and my boss, Gibbs." Each agent bowed their head when their respective name was called.

Gibbs launched right into the questioning, although it was more casual than taking her to the interrogation room. "Do you have any idea who would want you dead?" Lacey froze and looked up at him, fear etched across every inch of her face. The older man's face melted a bit and he lowered his voice, easing down on the corner of his desk. "Look, Lacey, we want to protect you, but if you don't give us any information, we can't." She nodded, understanding. "So, have you had any run-ins with specific people you remember lately?"

"Well, there was a guy at the club that Tony and I went to last night…" Ziva and McGee's heads snapped up to look at Tony as Lacey spoke. "He was obviously on leave. I thought maybe he was Marines but he could have just as easily been Navy…" Tony stepped closer to her protectively and set his hand on her lower back. It seemed like that was the only way he could portray his care and worry for her because, he noticed, he did this often.

"Muh-Gee, call in a—"

"On it, Boss." McGee hurried to his desk and began dialing numbers into his phone.

Gibbs leaned in, looking Lacey in the eye. "We've been to the crime scene, Lacey." She tensed. "We saw that you had been scheduled to work this morning. What happened?"

Tony looked at Ziva and saw that she was eyeing his girlfriend in a mixture of jealousy and what seemed like comparison. Did she really think she could compare to Lacey? _That sounded bad_. He thought that both women were gorgeous in their own ways. Beautiful, smart, funny, and strong. Lacey was a nurse in the Navy. Ziva had been a Mossad officer since she'd been sixteen. There was a distinct difference between them but it was no reason for Ziva to compare herself to Lacey…Different didn't mean bad…He tuned back into Lacey's description of the morning, not taking his eyes off of Ziva while trying to be subtle.

"Tony and I went out last night and got back to his apartment at around one. I slept for maybe an hour and then got a text message from my nurse manager, Vauna Granger," Lacey told Gibbs.

He raised his eyebrows. "What did it say?"

She took a deep breath and said, "That she had switched my shift with someone else's, so I wouldn't have to go in until four. I was planning on making the entire day about Tony—maybe taking him to lunch or something—so it sounded great to me…"

"What was your shift?"

"Seven to three," Lacey stated. "During that time, I take care of two babies and have five minute breaks every two hours."

"Sounds pretty nifty," Gibbs said, and Ziva wrote down the information. "Did you know that the attack took place at seven-thirty?" Lacey shook her head, shocked. "They searched through personnel files and when we got there, yours was missing. Who do you think would want that file?"

She frowned. "Um…all of my family lives upstate and I don't have cousins that aren't deployed right now."

"Ex-boyfriends?" Ziva chimed in. "Could they have seen you at the club and been upset that you were sleeping with someone else?" Tony thought he could hear a bite to her voice but wasn't going to call her on it yet.

Lacey stared at Ziva and murmured, "Oh, no, Tony and I aren't sleeping together…" The latter woman's eyes snapped to Tony's in a strange conglomerate of emotions. "We're dating, not having sex. There's a difference. I'm saved for marriage, anyway, so I've never slept with _anyone_." To Gibbs, she asked, "You don't think an ex-boyfriend would do this, do you?"

"I don't know, Lacey," he said. "But that's what we're gonna find out." He checked his watch and nodded to Tony and Ziva. "Ziva, go to the safe house with Tony and wait for McGee and Lacey to meet you there. If this guy's really intent on following Lacey, he's going to either have guys on her or will be trailing her himself." Without a word more, he swept out of the bullpen and toward the elevator to Abby's lab.

Ziva hesitated for a moment, and then left Tony and Lacey alone, saying she was going to go start the car.

They turned to each other and Lacey stared up at him, for the first time acknowledging the fear that had presented itself only moments before. "That could have been me," she said softly.

"That's why you need to do everything we tell you, Lacey," Tony said, and took her head in his hands and kissed her as gently as he could (and as inconspicuously). "I'll see you at the safe house. You'll be fine with McGee. Just talk to him about the beauty of electronic invoicing and you'll be good to go." She nodded and watched him as he walked in the same direction Ziva had.

* * *

It had been quiet for about ten minutes, and awkwardly so. Finally, Lacey decided to test Tony's theory. "So…McGee…about those stupid hard-copies…" she murmured, plopping down in what she assumed was Tony's chair.

Tim snorted. "Yeah, really. They suck, don't they?" Tony had been right; McGee _was_ really nice. "Try looking through hundreds in four hours to find a single suspect. Abby came up with a really good sorting system for that, though. Takes forever, but it makes it a bit easier of a task." He wrote something down on a piece of paper and stuffed it in his pocket. "We've gotta wait here until Tony or Ziva calls and says they're where they're supposed to be," Tim explained.

"Oh." Lacey crossed her legs and started spinning in the chair. Again with the awkward silence.

Suddenly, Tim asked, "You and Tony really haven't…?"

She shook her head and stopped spinning, trying to focus on McGee's face but failing. "Nope. We really haven't."

"Not even…?"

"No, McGee. We haven't done anything." Normally this would have frustrated her but McGee seemed different. "Ziva seemed surprised too. Why is it so hard to believe that Tony might actually survive a relationship without sex?"

He hung his head. "It seems as though sometimes, he talks up his personal life so much that he loses sight of reality. But never—_never_—does he let us forget the fact he hooked up with someone." Chuckling, Tim reassured, "But he's happier with _you_. I haven't seen him like this in years."

"Oh, the Jeanne story." Lacey laughed and started spinning again. "I met her. She's…intense." To herself, she thought, _Yeah, 'intense' as in 'bitchy'. _That was one thing she loved about men; they never _actually_ knew what a woman was thinking. And she preferred it stayed that way.

"Yeah, the Jeanne story," Tim muttered. "It's good to see him smiling again about his love life. For a while he was really down about it all."

"Was he?" Lacey remembered the day she'd met him and had been flirting with him. It had been in the supermarket, of all clichéd places, and she had noticed him near the meat bar. She was in need of a good steak for dinner herself so she'd walked on over and made a joke about the turkey leg. He'd laughed, but after taking in her scrubs, had grown serious again. She'd continued talking to him and introduced herself as a _nurse_. She knew she'd seen him around the hospital…_Hadn't he been the center of gossip for weeks over the Dr. Benoit scandal? _she'd asked herself before offering to buy his steak. He'd respectfully declined but had introduced himself as Tony Dinozzo. She had made most of the 'moves' and even given him her phone number (to which he had just smiled and said thanks, but not given her his own). There had been something in his eyes that Lacey found alluring and mysterious; it could have been hurt.

Tim nodded. "Yeah. It's like he's finally in love again."

"Oh, Tim," the nurse said casually, "we haven't even said those words yet. We're taking it slow."

He shrugged. "You don't have to say it to feel it." His cell phone rang and he flipped it open, listening for a few moments before saying, "Yep, we'll be there in twenty."

* * *

Ziva wasn't please she'd been stuck with Tony, he could tell. The thick silence between them was uncomfortable. After a few minutes of dealing with it, he eventually asked, "Is everything okay with us, _Ziva_?"

She turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised. "I have a question for you."

"Shoot." Tony couldn't be sure but he thought he caught her mutter, 'Gladly' under her breath.

Ziva sighed. "Was she serious when she said you two have not consummated your relationship yet?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"And she is saved for marriage?" Again, he nodded. "And you are okay with this?"

Tony thought for a moment before saying, "Yeah, I am." His partner blinked. "Why?"

"You are okay with _not_ sleeping with her and _not_ 'hooking up' and knowing that the only way you will be able to sleep with her is if you marry her?" Ziva blurted.

Wide-eyed, Tony looked at her. _"Yeah._ I'm thirty-nine. I've got to settle down eventually, Ziva, even if marriage scares me."

She was silent for a few minutes and finally said, "You had been thinking of marrying Jeanne, too."

"I'd also been assigned to dating her just to get information about her father, Zeev," Tony replied. "I made the mistake of falling in love with her along the way. That was an insult to Gibbs' rules and to my own common sense. This time, I'm…"

Ziva bit her lip. "This time you're actually in love."

"Come on. We haven't even said that yet." While he was smiling and trying to make it appear like he was at ease, he couldn't stop the blush that was working its way up his neck and into his cheeks.

As McGee's car drove up the street, she whispered, "You do not need to say it to feel it." Tony didn't acknowledge her words.

* * *

"Okay, Lacey," Tony said when he, Ziva, and Lacey were safely inside, "it's going to work in shifts. Ziva and I will be here for this shift, and then McGee will replace me, and finally I will replace Ziva. Understood?" She nodded and glanced at Ziva, who was standing by the window, coldly staring down at the world outside. "What's wrong?"

"I don't think she likes me," Lacey stated bluntly. "She has only said one sentence to me since the moment I met her. She must hate me…she must think I'm stupid for letting this happen."

Ziva turned and pulled the blinds down on the window. "No, Lacey, I do not think you are stupid." The other woman let out a sigh of relief. "Bad things happen to people; it is not my place to decide whether they are stupid or not." Tony rolled his eyes. Typical territory issues between the two women. _Awesome, _he thought.

"Look, I don't know what's going on," his girlfriend snapped, "but there's someone trying to _kill_ me and he's got my file, so now he has my address and phone number. That's a _problem_. I think that matters more than your petty jealousy issues." She could tell she was a few years older than the brown-haired agent and wasn't about to let her forget it.

Ziva and Tony shared a look and he started rummaging through the pockets of her jacket, her purse, and her suitcase. "Where's your cell phone?" he asked, taking out his own. "Lacey, where is it?" She extracted it from her pocket and handed it to him. He pushed the power button and the screen went black. "I'll be back."

"Wait! Where are you going?" Lacey asked, following him to the door. "Did I do something wrong?"

He turned and told her, "I'll be back. I have to run this to headquarters. You'll be fine with Ziva."

"Why are you taking my cell phone?" she demanded.

"Because cell phones have GPS cards that whoever's trying to kill you can track and therefore hunt you down and kill you." To Ziva, Tony murmured, "Call McGee. We should probably move." She nodded and Lacey felt as small as an ant.

* * *

Ziva glared at her. "You know, this would not have happened if you had just given us your cell phone in the first place," she snapped.

"Oh, so this is _my_ fault, is it?" Lacey retorted. "I see how it works. Since no one _asked me_ about my cell phone or suggested I _give it to them_, it's automatically _my fault_. That makes a lot of sense." She stared Ziva down and then plopped down into the couch to wait for McGee.

A call to Ziva's cell phone caught her attention. "McGee?" Ziva murmured, her voice containing the slightest bit of worry. "Mhm.—Yes.—Right.—Okay.—No, no one has tried anything yet.—We will meet you there." She snapped her phone shut and hefted Lacey's bags onto her shoulders. "Come along," she told her, "We are moving." Lacey followed her, casting nervous looks in either direction. "Stop doing that. Look natural. For all they know you were simply visiting a friend."

_Easy for her to say!_ "Look, Ziva, all _I_ know is that you don't like me and we're being followed."

"Are you sure?"

"What?"

"You said we were being followed." Ziva bristled. "Who is following us?"

"Whoever your boss thinks is following us…" Realization hit. "No, not right _now_. In general. Somewhere out there, someone's trying to find me." The foreign woman snorted, drove her to the next safe house and led her inside. "Has he told you who's after me?"

"No."

_Well, gee, sorry for being such a burden_… "Why don't you like me?"

Ziva ignored her.

* * *

"She seems so nice, Tony!" Abby squealed, taking the cell phone from the bag he handed her. "She's so pretty and shy and she's your age and—"

Tony coughed. "Hey…Abs…do you know if you can take the GPS chip out?" He didn't want to discuss Lacey. Not right now. Maybe later.

"I can!" she vowed. "And I will." She stared at him.

"Thank…you?" She still trained her eyes on him. "Um…"

The Goth girl exploded. "Tell me about her! How'd you meet? Where did you take her on your first date? Did you kiss her? Do you love her? Tell me everything there is to know!" Abby demanded in true Abby Sciuto-fashion.

Tony smiled and promised, "Later, Abby. I need to get back to the safe house."

Abby watched him walk toward the door and then cried, "Wait! Ziva hasn't called you yet. You don't know what one they chose. You've got…" She checked her watch. "…five minutes. Make it good!"

She made a good point, so he relented. "Alright." He sat on a stool facing her. "Lacey and I met at the meat bar at the supermarket almost four months ago." She let out an _Aw!_, which he dutifully ignored, although he had to grin. "I was still upset over the whole Brenda ordeal and…"

"Well, I know how much the breakup with Jeanne hurt you, too," Abby said, grabbing her cup of Caf-POW. "You're stronger now, though. I've seen it. Go on!"

"She was behind me in line and made a joke about the turkey legs. 'If a caveman walked in right now, I think we'd have a problem, huh?' she said. I turned and laughed, and I think she got a little nervous, so she nudged my arm and said, 'I'm sorry, you're not a caveman, are you?'"

Abby laughed. "You _are_ a strapping fellow, aren't you?"

"I guess," Tony chuckled. "So I said that I wasn't, and Lacey said that was good, because she was just a nurse so she wouldn't be able to fight me off if I were a caveman. She was quiet for a while and when she saw what I was getting, she offered to buy whatever meat it was—I think I was having dinner with Gibbs that night so it was probably a New York strip—but I declined her offer. She was okay with that and gave me her phone number, and told me if I ever wanted to catch up, to text or call…" He stared off reminiscently. "I wasn't going to, but I was bored one night."

"And?" she prodded. "What happened?"

Tony thought for a moment. "I called her and said, 'I don't know if you remember me, but we met at the supermarket…you offered to buy my steak.' We made plans to go out the following evening, and that went really smoothly, so we made another date."

"How many times did you go out before you decided to date her?" she asked, sipping on her drink.

Tony counted. "It was a mutual decision, really. I think we went out about six times and then realized we weren't talking to anyone else, so we'd might as well make it official." He remembered that night. They'd been sitting at the bar of a local restaurant—three star, but delicious menu—and she had brought it up. He'd agreed wholeheartedly. "You know, we're sexually attracted to each other but we're not pressured to sleep with each other. I think it's because we both _know_ that she's waiting till marriage, so we're not like, 'Hey, let's just go for it'. It helps."

Abby grinned. "Sounds like you're pretty serious about her, Tony!" She let out a mischievous chuckle.

"I am."

"Do you _love_ her?"

"I think so. We haven't really…talked about that. We're going with the flow, you know?" Tony ran a hand through his hair. "She sleeps over and we spend all night talking. Literally, just talking. We could talk for hours. And she's so funny." He stared off, thinking about her.

Abby kicked him softly. "You gonna marry her?"

Tony shrugged. "I don't know, Abs. She…and I…we just _work_ together. Really well, actually. I'd love to marry her. I just…"

"You're worried about Ziva?"

"Exactly." He sighed.

"Tony!" She touched his face as though slapping him, but it didn't hurt. "Ziva is a grown woman. You are a grown man. You _both_ agreed that a relationship with each other would be irresponsible. She _understands_."

Tony nodded and murmured, "Yeah. I know." She looked at her watch. "Time to call?" Abby grinned. "Good talking to you, Abby." With that, he stood and walked from the lab, his phone pressed to his ear as he waited for Ziva to answer.

Lacey would be safe, even if he had to risk his own life to protect her.

* * *

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not know where the NCIS safe houses are. : )_

_**A/N:**__ Mmkk, hope you enjoyed it! Love, Brown Eyes Only._


	3. Just Can't Get Enough

_**A/N:**__ Thank you once again for checking back…and thank you to my awesome beta surferdude8225! _

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own a Beretta Cheetah. I swear. Also, I'm scared of guns, so…I probably never will._

* * *

They had swiftly moved Lacey to another safe house, where she had no contact with her cell phone or the men who potentially wanted her dead. Tony rejoined them at the second house and enveloped Lacey in a huge bear hug. "Next time," he mumbled into her hair, "tell me when you have your cell phone."

"I know," Lacey groaned. "Ziva already yelled at me." Tony quirked an eyebrow at his partner but she said nothing. "Okay, so, what's the plan for today? I would've brought Monopoly, but it didn't fit in my bag…"

He shrugged and wrapped his arms around Lacey's waist. "You're to stay away from the windows, obey Ziva's every command, and try to not get dead," he told her as Ziva made a soft gagging noise behind them. He turned and smirked at her, but in his eyes swam an apology. "And, try not to kill each other? I have to go back to headquarters and talk to Gibbs again. He wanted me to give you this, Zeev, but if you wipe out my girlfriend, I may have to hand you resignation papers instead." Tony was joking but his voice still held a bit of a threat. She lifted her hands innocently and her eyes showed him she understood. "And you," he said to Lacey, leaning down to whisper in her ear, "be safe." He gently kissed her neck and walked out the door.

When Ziva was sure he was gone, she decided to make her move. Circling Lacey predatorily, she murmured, "Now, I am having a bit of difficulty understanding your relationship with Tony." Lacey said nothing but raised an eyebrow. "The circumstances, that is. You are saved for marriage. You are conservative. And yet…Tony is dating you?"

"For the third month," Lacey said, and it was somewhat like a hiss. Internally, she insulted the other woman, _You bitch…_

"And Tony is fine with that?" The nurse nodded. "You must be really something, then, hm?"

Lacey let out a laugh. "I'd like to think so, sure, but you'd have to ask Tony."

Ziva stared her down. "What makes you so special?" The timbre of the woman's voice was reaching a snotty point, somewhere between nosy and bitchy.

The staring contest went on for a few minutes before Lacey answered. "I think that, perhaps, the fact I refuse to spread my legs means that my boyfriend needs to get to know me on other levels, not just how I am in bed." She said nothing more.

"I guess I just do not understand," Ziva murmured acidly, "why he would go for someone who so publicly announces the goings-on of their sex life, and put up with not sleeping together on top of that."

Lacey rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't have even told you about my sex life with Tony if you weren't an NCIS agent, Agent Davíd. It's my business, not yours, so keep the jealousy."

"I am not jealous," the Israeli woman jabbed. "I am _curious_."

"Oh, so the bitchy undertone to your voice is there by nature?" Lacey asked casually, walking around Ziva as she had just been walking around her. "I see. Good to know. But, I will say one thing. You and I _aren't_ friends. We don't need to be. Tony keeps his relationship _out_ of the office—obviously—and therefore, he can keep you _in_ it." She noticed she'd gotten a bit snappy toward the end, but didn't show her 'enemy' that it bothered her.

"What is your problem?" Ziva demanded, taking a seat on the counter of the grimy kitchen. "I was sent by my boss to _protect_ you from whoever wants you _dead_. I think you owe me a bit more than your territory issues."

Tony's girlfriend nodded, holding back a chuckle. "_My_ territory issues. Right." She crossed the room to stand in front of Ziva and raised her eyebrows. "If you want Tony, you can try whatever means to get him, but he's _not_ going to fall for them. He's _my_ boyfriend. You can either suck it up and deal with it, or mope around and come up with whatever man-stealing schemes you want, but it's out of my hands now. Your ball, your court, I'm out." And with that, Lacey walked into the bathroom to pee.

* * *

"Five bucks says they get into a fight before sixteen hundred," McGee smirked, sticking his hand out. Tony just rolled his eyes and shook his head disapprovingly, while Gibbs shook on the bet.

"Only," the Silver Fox said, "I bet ten that Lacey stays cool." He sipped on his coffee and twinkled his eyes at his Senior Field Agent in reassurance. "Found anything yet, Duh-Nozzo?"

Tony set down his pen and shrugged. "Vauna Granger was gunned down for no reason. It doesn't look like it's because she was mistaken for Lacey. McGee, show him the clip." Tim brought up the security tape, which showed that the gunman had definitely been intent on shooting, but not the babies or other nurses. Just Vauna. The others had gotten in the way and therefore had been shot as well. "I think it was just anger in general."

"Could be," Gibbs agreed. "Find out." And with that, he left, allowing the two younger agents to talk.

Senior Agent turned to younger and said, "You're really immature, you know that?"

"I'm immature?" McGee yelped. "How?"

Tony stared him down icily. "A fight between my girlfriend and Ziva isn't funny. It's really sick, in a _bad_ way. Lacey isn't trained to fight. She could get really hurt. And besides which, I don't think it's even that good of an idea anyway." Taking a breath, he told his teammate, "You need to realize that while Lacey's my girlfriend, she's also a potential victim. Hard feelings between her and Zeev could really screw it up. They not only _should_ get along, but they also _need_ to get along."

The tech-geek nodded hastily and spluttered, "Yeah, I know, but you know how Ziva gets…" Regaining his composure, he confronted his teammate with an awkward, "Since when are you so testy? We always used to bet on Ziva's fights."

"When you get a long-term girlfriend, Tim, you'll understand." And with that, Tony turned and finished his scribblings.

* * *

"So, where were you yesterday morning?" Gibbs asked, standing on the stoop outside a middle-aged man's patio home. He smiled charismatically and folded his hands as though there was nothing wrong.

The man, who the team had learned held the name of Walter Jordan, scratched the back of his head and shrugged. "I don't know who you are." His beer-gut jiggled unattractively as he spat into the garden by the door. "Who are you, anyway?"

The NCIS agent held out his badge, the smile on his face never faltering. "Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, NCIS." Immediately, Walter swung open the door and beckoned him in. "Thanks," he said with a smirk.

"What was the question, again?" His memory had seemingly come back now that he had another cold beer in his hand and he was more than willing to answer Gibbs' questions. After all, Gibbs could tell he didn't necessarily have anything to do with it.

The Silver Fox raised an eyebrow. "Where were you yesterday morning?" he repeated, checking the time on his orange watch. It had been a present to him, obviously a woman, but, as much as he knew it drove his team crazy, he would never tell. And, he could tell his ways were rubbing off on others because even DiNozzo was showing a more mature side now that his girlfriend was in danger. Gibbs had seen that change around the time of Jeanne, too, but it had gone away for a few years once he'd gotten over the initial breakup. But now? Oh, now, Tony was finally acting his age, and Gibbs was proud of him.

After a while, Walter groaned his answer. "I was at the store buying some cigars." Sitting, he offered Gibbs a seat, too. "I'd run out of beer and cigars, and since I got my pension check the day before yesterday, I wanted to cash it and get more. And don't you know it; I was standing in line for at least two hours. Some poor schmuck couldn't make his mind up on his MegaMillions' ticket." His alibi checked out, and Gibbs knew it. McGee had run the security tapes; Walter had been standing there from at least nine in the morning until eleven, during which hours the shooting had occurred. That's not what had caught Gibbs' attention. It was the fact that, under Walter Jordan's roof, lived a troubled teen with access to Daddy's Gun.

And the bullets were a match.

"Tell me, Walter; do you own a gun?" Gibbs asked coyly. The man nodded. "What make is it?"

Walter thought for a moment before getting up and hobbling over to a cabinet on the far wall. As he fumbled with his keys, he explained that he had bought a twenty-two gauge Beretta Cheetah as a means of protection, but that he rarely carried it with him. Walter went on to say that he always had it locked up in the cupboard, in its case, out of harm's way. Lately, however, he had noticed that his son, Adam, had been messing with the lock. His older brother, Garth, had been given a key when he had joined the Marines.

Gibbs grew serious. "Do you know where Garth and Adam were yesterday morning, Walter?"

The man thought for a moment. "Well, when I left, Garth was sleepin'. He's been really tired lately, because he just came home on leave. And Adam spent the night at his girlfriend's house."

"Who's his girlfriend?"

"Nice girl. Blond, short, bubbling personality." Walter stroked the stubbly beard that it looked like he was trying to grow. "Her name's Lacey Zimmerman."

The agent whipped out his cell phone and dialed Ziva's phone number. While he waited, he said, "Have you ever met Lacey?" Walter shook his head. "Why not?"

"Don't know. Adam's never really been public about his personal relationships…"

Gibbs was _not_ pleased, and he imagined his Senior Field Agent wouldn't be either.

* * *

Tony froze when he heard the news. "She …"

"Look, Duh-Nozzo," Gibbs cut in, "Jordan didn't seem to know her. Just saw a picture or something. I think Adam might be the one doing this." He walked over to Tony's desk and held out a notepad. "Here's all of my notes." After his phone call with Ziva, and then with Lacey, he had stayed with Walter to get his side of the story. He had learned that Adam had proven his 'relationship' status with Lacey by jingling her house keys in his face. If she had actually been with him, she might have given him access to her home, but Gibbs highly doubted it. Likewise, a real girlfriend would frame a picture of herself _and_ her boyfriend to give, not just a random shot. He had experience; obviously, this young man did not.

The younger man picked up the notes and read through him, but they seemed to have an opposite effect on his comfort level. "How would he get the keys in the first place, boss?"

Gibbs shrugged. "I don't know, Tony." His normally strict demeanor melted as he watched his agent grow more and more concerned. "Why?"

"Gibbs, _I_ don't even have the keys to her apartment." This point seemed to bother him and his boss just shook his head. "No, really. We don't have the keys to each other's apartment. There's no reason for it, and whenever she wants to come over, she texts me or calls me first to make sure I'm there. I do the same for her," Tony insisted. "She's the only one with a key to her apartment, Gibbs."

"Well," the Silver Fox murmured, "I guess we're gonna have to figure out why."

* * *

A knock on the door signaled Ziva to the presence of someone other than the two women, and she carefully and silently rose to pad over to the door. Peering through the eye-hole, she saw that it was only Tony. The concerned, upset expression his face held made her nervous as she opened the door. "Tony, is everything oka—"

"No," he snapped, swiftly cutting her off. "Where's Lacey?"

"Bedroom…" Ziva replied, following as he walked over to the door. She was about to step through it when Tony slammed the door closed, and she was forced to content herself either by listening through the wood panel, or taking a seat on the couch and waiting. She chose to sit on the floor next to the door-jam and try to listen.

Inside the room, Lacey was folded up against the headboard of the bed, internally running through anything that she could have done to make him so upset. She could see in his eyes that he felt betrayed. The walls were going up. "Tony?" she asked. "Tony, what's wrong?"

"How did Adam Jordan get a key to your apartment?" Tony demanded. Lacey stared at him in confusion. "Don't pretend you don't know about it. He's been sleeping there for the past few weeks." Her mouth dropped open slightly as fear flashed in her green eyes. "Or do you not know about it?" He sat down on the bed and took her hand in his.

"Who…is Adam Jordan?" she gasped. "I don't _know_ an Adam Jordan."

"Somehow, he got his hands on a picture of you in college and a set of your keys," Tony explained. "Did you give him either of those?" Lacey shook her head. "He's telling everyone that you're his girlfriend." The expression of disgust swept over her features and he raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you don't know him?"

Lacey hung her head and took his hand in hers. "Tony, Adam Jordan is my ex-boyfriend from high school. I haven't spoken with him in at least a decade." He let out a soft, bitter chuckle and her eyes snapped to his. "You have to believe me. I broke up with him…When I joined the Navy and he didn't appreciate my pride for my country, I told him to get out of my life."

"I think having a key to your front door is a bit of a contradiction, then, Lacey." Tony's eyes glinted with hurt, but he upheld a professional tone.

She squeezed his hand. "I've moved about four times in the past six months."

"Stalking you?"

"No, I just haven't liked where I've been living." Lacey offered a small smile. "I still don't. Why do you think I spend so much time at your apartment?" Tony had to smile back at her, but he still flexed his jaw muscles tensely. "Tony, I don't mean this to sound cliché, but I couldn't care less about Adam or anything that he's doing. I only have eyes for _you_."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, but why does he have a key to your apartment?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him for as long as I haven't spoken to him." She scooted closer to her boyfriend and traced the bank of his thumb with hers. "Tony, I swear to you, I don't know anything about this. If he's spending time at my house, he's obviously not trying to make his presence known."

"He has a brother," Tony said.

"Yeah. His name's Garth…he was a Marine, too. I never met him, but I guess he's got his fair share of decorations," Lacey explained.

He nodded. "Apparently he just went home leave, so he's back here." Tony eyed her curiously. "Promise?"

She moved quickly, straddling his lap in a matter of seconds. "Promise," she whispered, pressing her lips to his. "I don't cheat." Tony set his hands on her hips and smirked up at her. "That's also a promise."

"Sweetheart," he said huskily, "this isn't the time to make that promise." Even so, Lacey pressed herself to his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Lacey, come on, not…" He trailed off, chuckling, as she nipped at his neck. They stayed there, whispering 'sweet' nothings to each other and making up, until Ziva knocked on the door. Lacey pulled away and Tony stood, going over to the door and opening it. "Hey."

"I was just…" The Israeli woman fidgeted, shifting her weight, and glanced past him at Lacey. "I was just wondering if everything was okay." Tony nodded and gestured for her to enter the room, but Ziva shook her head. "No, I should really keep watch out here." He shrugged and closed the door, crossing to where Lacey sat.

Smiling gently, he murmured, "I need to get back to the office."

"Come visit later?" She pouted, trailing her finger down the left side of his chest.

"My shift with McGee is coming up at seven." Tony was surprised at how extroverted Lacey was being, but welcomed the change in behavior (although he was worried it was related to the crime). She kissed him and walked him to the door. Her need for closeness had skyrocketed. "See you later, Lacey."

"Bye, Tony," she murmured.

As he left the safe house, he worried that when he returned later that day, he would find his girlfriend with a black eye.

* * *

_**A/N: **__I've been told by four reviewers that I shouldn't be discouraged by the lack of reviews, but I must be honest and tell you that I __**am**__ discouraged. __**::sad face::**__ Yup…. So…. If you read this, __**please**__ review. Thank you for reading! __**::grins::**_


	4. Say Hello

_**A/N:**__ Hello…I hope you all like it…Guess that's all I have to say…No witty authors' note this time._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own anyone but the characters that aren't actually from the series…I don't own the series, either._

* * *

When Tony returned later that night, Ziva was on the phone. Lacey sat on the couch next to her, doing a crossword in the newspaper. "Who's she talking to?" he asked his girlfriend curiously. The blond just shrugged and looked up at him expectantly. He quirked an eyebrow at her and sat on the arm of the couch. Ziva hung up shortly after and Tony used this to his advantage. "Was that your Manly-Man from Miami?" His eyes twinkled; internally, he was _actually hoping_ that it was. On the outside, he knew it showed.

"Perhaps." The former-Mossad officer waved him off dismissively and stowed the cell phone in her front pocket.

"Whatever happened to him, Zeev?" he asked. "You went on a few ski trips, he cooked you a few meals, you worshipped nature together, and now nothing." A thought struck him. "Oh, no, you two didn't break up, did you, now?" He wanted it to make it seem as though he was joking, for Lacey's sake, but he was really kind of concerned for Ziva. Just because they'd come to the mutual decision to move on, Tony recognized that they were still protective of each other; that would never change.

Ziva turned to him and shrugged. "We did not break up, necessarily." From this, Tony could tell that he'd missed quite a bit in the time he'd been with Lacey; somehow, he even sensed that McGee knew more than he did about it all. "We took … a break."

Lacey snorted, gaining her a dirty look from Ziva. "What? 'Breaks' in relationships mean one of two things. Either one, they last for a few weeks, at most; or two, they last forever. This wasn't a break. I can tell that much from your phone call." The slightly younger woman rolled her eyes and stood. To Tony, the nurse murmured, "McGee just left to pick up dinner."

"Excellent. What's he getting?" Tony gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"I don't know; I think he said something about an Indian walk-up joint. He and Ziva made the decision, not me."

Ziva turned and stared her down. "If you did not want Indian food for dinner, you should—_could—_have spoken up."

Lacey shook her head, gazing at the other woman blankly. "Actually, Ziva, I love Indian food." This softened the brunette's features somewhat, so much so, in fact, that there was a soft smile gracing her lips. "Butter chicken is my favorite, followed by Rogan Josh and Chole." This personal fact seemed to set Ziva back up to the same icy hardness that she had held before, and she sniffed and walked into the bathroom. "She and I argued earlier. Again." Lacey shifted slightly and the sleeve of her shirt was unintentionally pushed up her wrist, revealing an angry bruise.

"Where'd that come from?" Tony asked, feeling rather breathless.

"Slammed it in the refrigerator." The answer seemed to come too quickly for him to believe it. "Sorry, not the refrigerator; the bathroom door. I was just thinking about how hungry I am." Lacey was noticeably biting the inside of her cheek and Tony carefully took her hand in his. She looked up at him, watching his green eyes intently staring back at her, and finally caved. "Look, I said some mean stuff, and she kind of … It was my fault, really. If I hadn't said what I did, then she wouldn't have gotten mad."

Tony had heard enough. Standing, he said softly, but acidly, "I'll be right back."

"No, Tony, really—" Lacey jumped to her feet and followed him. "It was a really cheap shot, one she didn't deserve…even I know when I've gone too far. Don't be mad at her." She wasn't sure why she was defending the woman—because it really wasn't Lacey's fault at all, but in fact Ziva's reaction to seeing the blond nurse trying to hide her swollen, well-kissed lips—but she felt a bit guilty that this could ruin a partnership. "Tony, come on."

He narrowed his eyes a bit, trying to see through her strong appearance. "What did you say?" He figured it really hadn't been Lacey's fault, but he also knew that Ziva took things more seriously than what was actually necessary sometimes. "Was it about Mossad or something?"

Seeing as the conversation had never taken place, Lacey was forced to fabricate a story, something she had never been very good at. She nodded meekly and said, "I told her that obviously no one wanted her, since she was a cast-off of both…um…Mossad _and_ you." She bit her cheek again. _I must not tell lies…_

Tony's eyes widened then, as he had previously never known Lacey to pull those types of punches. "Lace…"

"I know, Tony, it was harsh. I shouldn't have done it. I deserved this." She looked down at her wrist, an ugly mix of purple and blue, and frowned. "I don't know what came over me."

Tony could guess: Self-defense. "Alright, Lacey, but I should still talk to her." She nodded again and went to sit down while Tony knocked on the bathroom door.

McGee knocked on the door not shortly after Tony and Ziva finished talking, carrying in four bags full of food. "I got you the butter chicken, Lacey," he explained. Lacey remembered her conversation earlier that day (after the Ziva fiasco) about their likes and dislikes. Butter chicken was on her list of 'likes'. She smiled at the fact _he_ had remembered. "And I figured you'd get here before I did, Tony, so I got you Tandoori chicken." The nerd handed a box and package of plastic utensils to each of the other three people and sat down on a stool by the counter.

Ziva looked around and then gathered her coat and purse. "I think I will take mine to-go and eat at headquarters."

"Aw, Ziva," McGee said, furrowing his eyebrows, "I'm sure Gibbs won't mind if you eat here." She shook her head insistently and he finally relented. "Alright. See you later!"

"Goodbye, everyone." And with that, she left Tony, McGee, and Lacey alone.

* * *

"Hey, Boss," Tony murmured, his phone pressed firmly against his ear.

"We got the guy who was hanging out at Lacey's apartment," Gibbs said tersely. "It was Jordan, like we thought. Lacey doesn't have to be in a safe-house anymore."

The Senior Field Agent smiled. "That's great." He sensed that his boss wasn't quite finished yet. "I sense a 'but' somewhere in here…"

"I don't want her goin' to her apartment yet unless she's with one of you guys. If one guy somehow got his paws on her keys, some other weirdo might've, too. Keep her either here at the office or at one of your houses."

Tony didn't have time to respond before he heard the click in his ear. "Well, then," he mumbled, snapping his phone shut and clipping it on his belt. To McGee and Lacey, he said, "Gibbs and Ziva found the guy. Adam."

"What's that mean?" Lacey asked, her eyes glittering excitedly. "Can I go home?"

He crossed to where she was sitting and plopped down next to her. "Kind of."

"Kind of?"

"Yeah," Tony confirmed. "We don't know who shot Vauna or held up the NICU, so we're going to keep you in protective custody—but not here at a safe-house—until we find him." His green eyes met hers and he smiled apologetically. "You can go to your apartment if you're accompanied by one of us, but otherwise, you're going to be either at headquarters or at an agent's house." Lacey shrugged in acceptance and Tony stood to take McGee aside.

The nerd started the conversation. "Have they made _any_ headway with who murdered Granger?"

"No idea." Tony paused for a moment and then said, "Do you know what happened with Ziva and Lacey?" McGee shook his head. "You haven't seen the bruise on Lacey's wrist?"

"Oh, God…"

"Yeah, I know. And guess whose place she's probably going to be set up at first?" The older man stared at his teammate gravely. "This could prove to be very, very bad."

McGee nodded, agreeing. "I can see if I can switch with her."

"You'd do that?" Tony asked, and McGee shrugged his shoulders. "Thanks, McGenerous!"

The man held up a hand to stop his senior agent. "When are you going to stop calling me those stupid names?"

Tony grinned. "Does it affect your taking Lacey in?"

"No…"

"Then probably never." The glint of his smile begged McGee to argue, but when he only gave a simple 'Good to know' jerk of his head, Tony walked off toward Lacey again. "I'll help you with your stuff and then we'll get you back to headquarters."

"Awesome."

* * *

"So, you've never actually taken a forensics course before?" Abby pried, skipping around her lab, leaving Lacey to wonder about the Goth girl's sanity. "I mean, you're a nurse, so you've done, like, blood-typing, right?"

The blond nodded, stuffing her hands into the pocket of the hoodie Tony had let her borrow once (and that she had never returned…). "Of course. We do it all the time."

Abby came to a halt in front of her. "Well, we can put you to good use, then." Lacey's eyes widened a bit, hesitantly, before the other woman laughed and said, "Lacey! I was just _kidding_. Don't worry!" A sincere look crossed her features. "It's great to finally get to talk you for more than five minutes."

"Today _has_ been hectic, hasn't it?" The nurse shook her head. "You think that it's all so 'normal', that your boyfriend's job is so amazing, until you're the one they're trying to protect." Abby nodded in understanding. "You've been there, huh?"

"Well, kind of." The girl in black grinned bashfully. "I was stalked by an ex who thought I was in danger…and then, later on, one of McGee's readers thought that _Deep Six_—McGee's book—was real life, and that I was trying to kill one of the characters, so he broke in." Lacey watched on, somewhere between disbelief and awe. "Yeah, things get pretty interesting around here, I tell ya."

The preppy-er woman shook her head. "No," she said, keeping her voice low, "that's not what surprises me…"

"Then what does?"

"McGee wrote a book?"

Abby nodded. "Yep. His pseudonym is 'Thom E. Gemcity'." As she spoke, she seemed to be channeling Vanna White from _Wheel Of Fortune_, spreading her arms wide as if presenting something extravagant. "It's an anagram. Cute, huh?"

"I've heard of his book…I think I read it." In fact, she _had_ read it, several years ago when her first nurse manager had suggested it. Instantly, she had fallen in love with the plotline and character structure. Tommy was her favorite character, quickly followed by L.J. Tibbs, and then by Amy Sutton. "Special Agent McGregor, right?" she asked. Abby held up a finger and scurried off toward her desk, pulling a hardcover book from her drawer. "Yup, that's the one."

"Who was your favorite character?" The woman in the short skirt asked. "Mine's either Amy or McGregor…I can't decide which."

Lacey thought for a moment. "Well, I really do like Tommy…"

"I thought you'd say that." Abby smirked. "You seem like someone who could really fall in love with Tommy, anyway."

The nurse looked at her funny. "Why?"

The forensic scientist beckoned her forward. "Don't tell Timmy I told you this, but…" Looking at all four corners of the room, she whispered, "_Deep Six_ is based on us."

"Us?"

"Yeah, NCIS. Most of the cases in the books are cases we've actually worked." Abby puffed up her chest proudly. "So it makes sense that you're a Tommy fan."

This struck Lacey as odd. "You mean to tell me that 'swashbuckling, socially repugnant Special Agent Tommy' is really my boyfriend?" Abby grinned gleefully. "Then, that would make 'sultry and emotionally distant Mossad officer Lisa' Ziva…"

"You guessed it. And I'm Amy Sutton. McGee is McGregor, and L.J. Tibbs…" She looked at the other woman seriously, arching an eyebrow. "Well, that one's pretty self-explanatory, isn't it?"

For a few hours, Lacey and Abby talked about nothing more than simple girly stuff, such as actors and music. For such a blond-haired, green-eyed, preppy girl, Lacey seemed to surprise Abby. Abby learned that Lacey loved techno and many of the same bands that haunted the speakers of the forensics lab.

They both discovered that they shared a love of Trent Reznor (and Nine Inch Nails in general) and rocked out for at least thirty minutes to one of their albums. Abby had just lost her balance while doing some sort of pirouette (and was about to fall) when Gibbs came in and caught her.

"Hey, Gibbs!" she cheered above the metal. "I was just talking to Lacey." She motioned for the blond to lower the music, and she obeyed, before Gibbs propped her up and stared at both of them. "I don't have anything yet?" she said as a guess as to why the Silver Fox was there.

The retired Marine said nothing, but smirked.

"Mr. Gibbs," Lacey began, "I—"

"It's just Gibbs," he murmured, squeezing by her and heading toward the monitor. "Who is this guy?"

In tandem, Lacey and Abby both shouted, "Trent Reznor!"

The Goth continued, "You know, Nine Inch Nails…sexiest man alive? Kind of looks like Severus Snape, when you think about it, but as far as old men go, Alan Rickman is a _god_. Not that he's old or anything, of course, Gibbs, because Alan Rickman's kind of your age, about, so he's probably really just _your_ age. Which is older than thirty, but way less than old."

He stared down at them with a grandfatherly gleam to his silvery-blue eyes and cocked his head. "I don't know who they are, but they should get a manicure. Do you know who—" Remembering that Lacey was in the room, he sent her away so that he could talk to Abby about the case in private.

In the hallway, the blond woman, unfamiliar with the setup of the building, came across a room with swinging doors similar to those at the hospital. With a gentle push, she walked through them, finding herself face-to-face with Vauna's body, lying coldly on a metal slab as an older man and his assistant performed an autopsy. Lacey was unable to tear her eyes away, trapped between a feeling of horror and curiosity. "Oh, my God," she whispered, and the younger gentleman, holding a stainless steel bowl, snapped to face her.

"Doctor Mallard, there's…a girl."

The older man nodded, but never paused in his work. "Ah, so you have come to the fork in the road with your current girlfriend, hmm? Well, you _are_ young, Mr. Palmer, and I believe you will have much opportunity to face this again."

"No, Breena and I are fine…" this 'Mr. Palmer' said, "Doctor Mallard, there's—uh—a girl. Uh, here. She's standing—uh—behind you."

Setting down his forceps, the doctor turned and looked at Lacey with wide, bright eyes. "We have a guest! How lovely!" He held out a bloody hand and said, "I am Doctor Donald Mallard; may I have the pleasure of knowing _your_ name?"

She stared down at his hand in shock; she had seen blood before—and had assisted in some neonatal surgeries—and she had also had to watch several autopsies during nursing school. But she had never—_never_—witnessed a live autopsy on someone she had personally known. This made it so final, and so apparent that she would never talk to Vauna Granger again, that it was nearly unbearable. Lacey's eyes snapped up to meet Doctor Mallard's and she tried to smile.

"I'm Lacey Zimmerman. I…" Well, she couldn't very well say that she was the target of some psychotic guy who had killed the woman lying on the Doctor's autopsy table. "I work at Bethesda Naval Hospital, in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit."

Ducky watched her. "Well, I thought you looked familiar." After a brief pause, he added, "You are seeing Anthony, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Lacey said, blushing and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Word travels fast, huh?"

The medical examiner smiled. "That, and Special Agent Gibbs told me that you would be in the building today." Ducky's eyes twinkled and again, Lacey's eyes were trained on the cadaver behind him, as though hypnotized. "Was she a friend?" he asked quietly, stepping forward.

"I only met her a couple of days ago," she replied, her eyes glued to the body. "She trailed me all day, though, kind of like a shadow or an intern." Laughing, though a tad bitterly, she added, "Ironic, isn't it? A nurse manager interning with a mere nurse like me…"

Ducky nodded and led her over to a stool, though not touching her. "Sit, sit. I was almost finished with the autopsy anyway." Lacey entertained herself with looking at the various pictures Ducky had pinned to the wall, and before she knew it, the autopsy _was_ done, indeed. "Now, would you like some tea?"

_No wonder Tony loves his job so much_, she thought as she watched him collect his instruments for tea-making. _The people here are like family._

* * *

"Lacey!" Abby cried, hopping into the autopsy lab. "You and I need to talk!"

The blond girl sat straight up, nearly dropping the beautiful teacup that Ducky had given her. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Yes, terribly, terribly wrong." The forensic scientist sobered and stared at her somberly. "But we need to talk in _my_ lab, not Ducky's. Not that there's anything wrong with Ducky's lab, because there's not, but…" As she trailed off, Lacey stood and gingerly set the teacup on Ducky's tea-cart.

"The tea was amazing, Ducky. Thank you," she said, and Ducky bowed his head at her, smiling. Abby led her from the bay and dragged her down the hall to the forensics lab. "What is—"

Abby locked the doors behind them and sat Lacey down in a rolling-chair. "We haven't talked about Tony. At all. This is…" She thought for a moment to find the word. "This is a travesty! What kind of girl-talk _doesn't_ centralize itself around boyfriends? Jeez." Lacey stared up at her with raised eyebrows. "So go ahead. Start talkin'!"

"Well," she said, chuckling, "I suppose you've already heard about how we met, so I'm not quite sure what to tell you…"

"What's it like to date him?" Abby gushed. "Is he a gentleman? Or is he like a big teenager? Because here, he got the reputation of 'teenager', but he might be different in a relationship, you know?" Lacey just nodded. "No, no! That's not how this works!"

"I know…" the nurse murmured, thinking of how to answer her. "Well, he's always polite. Well, not always, because he _is_ a man, after all." Here, Abby snorted, and it took all of Lacey's willpower to not follow suit. "I mean, he's always very sweet. He has a huge heart, and treats me well…I guess I don't know what else there is to say…" While she felt deep down that Abby was probably a lovely girl and a very good friend, there were just some things that Lacey didn't yet feel comfortable talking about.

"That's just enough," the Goth girl murmured. "You don't need to disclose all the hinky or kinky parts of your relationship; those are your business. I was just curious as to…y'know, the whole 'DiNozzo Experience'." Abby smiled. "How long has it been, again?" The two women talked more until Ziva knocked on the sliding door. Having forgotten that she had locked it, Abby jumped up to flip the latch. "Sorry, Ziva! Lacey and I were just talking and I totally forgot that—"

"It is fine, Abby," Ziva said stiffly, but politely. "Tony wanted me to come and collect Lacey so that McGee can start the watch." She eyed the other two women, obviously trying to be cordial. "Are you ready, Lacey?"

"I suppose…I have all of my things from Tony's apartment…" The blond woman could sense that Ziva was running through all sorts of slutty things she could have with her, from the bitter look on the other woman's face. "The only thing I really need is my purse from upstairs." Ziva pulled it out from behind her back and handed it to her.

"McGee wants to leave as soon as possible," the former-Mossad officer explained, shrugging. She turned on her heel and, right before leaving the lab, turned and said, "Have a good evening, Abby." Lacey saw the first genuine smile to cross the woman's lips all day, and she wished Ziva didn't hate her so much.

* * *

"Now, McGee is a nerd," Tony said, taking just Lacey into the elevator, closing the doors, and pulling the emergency stop button as he had seen Gibbs do so many times in the past. "He's kind of a pushover, though, so it's really imperative that you not…you know…try to get him to break the rules, okay?" Lacey nodded. "Also, he's got a dog. A _big_ dog. German shepherd."

His girlfriend just smiled. "I like dogs. I had one as a child." A malamute, which she knew could be bigger than a German shepherd on a good day. "What else?"

"Do I get a kiss before you go?" There was the suave, romantic man she liked so much. "Or are you mad at me for leaving earlier?"

Lacey shook her head. "No, Tony, I'm not mad at you." She raised her arms, looping them around his neck. She loved how tall he was compared to her short frame; it made her feel safe and secure whenever he held her. She pressed her lips to his, standing on her tip-toes, and, ever so slightly, pressed herself into him. When they parted, she just wanted to stand there, with his arms around her, until everything was fixed. But, unfortunately, she knew that couldn't happen.

"Well…" Tony blinked. "Well, that's good." Grinning, he pushed in the emergency stop button and let her get out at ground level, meeting McGee by the front doors of the foyer. "Let anything happen to her, and you're my slave until you die, McProbester," he warned. The younger man just smiled and nodded, having already heard the speech before. After giving Lacey a hug, Tony watched the pair walk out to the geek's car and then turned and walked back upstairs.

_This was going to be a long night…_


	5. Does Anybody Hear Her?

_**A/N:**__ Allo…It's been a while, huh? Well…that's no one's fault, really. I've been putting this one on hold since I don't want to see Tony with a short blond girl anymore. I think that CBS totally ripped that idea off of me. JUST KIDDING. Please don't quote me on that, I was totally kidding, and I don't want anyone to think that I was serious. Onto more serious matters, however, I want you all to realize that Lacey is no longer my favorite character, nor is she based on me. This chapter mentions rape. The next chapter __**may**__ contain more explicit detail about it, but I haven't decided. I'd like to thank __**surferdude8225**__ for being an awesome beta and friend! I'd like us all to pray that everything in Cote de Pablo's life is okay and that she won't be leaving the cast; EJ is (hopefully) not a Ziva replacement and never will be. Peace. Out._

_**Disclaimer:**__ Baha, I totally own the idea of the short, blond girlfriend for Tony. But I don't own EJ. Just Lacey. And EJ is NOT in this chapter (nor will she be in the story). I own this plotline and nothing else of NCIS except for characters that no one recognizes._

* * *

Lacey walked into McGee's living room, wearing a pair of Tony's old, beat-up sweat pants and a tee-shirt. "Special Agent McGee?" The computer nerd's head snapped up from the computer screen he sat behind. "I'm sorry for bothering you, but…do you have a book I could read?"

"Uh," McGee mumbled, "yeah, I've got a ton of books. Do you like mysteries?" She nodded. "This one's excellent." He handed her a hardcover book; it was thick with a purple cover, the silver tail of an airplane off to the side. On it was the crest of a lion, along with the title: _The Lion's Game_. "It's kind of scary, if you actually think about it. It was published before 9/11, but it's all about terrorism and Al Qaeda."

"Thanks," the blond murmured, sitting down in a comfy-looking chair. "And it's fiction?"

McGee nodded. "Oh, and call me Tim. You're not a suspect." He was joking but Lacey was still hesitant to call him anything but 'Special Agent'. "Don't worry about it." He reclined and stretched out. "Now, what are you doing tomorrow?"

"I'm staying at Abby's house tomorrow night. That's all I know," Lacey said. "During the day, I think I'm stuck at the office again." Under her breath, she muttered, "And maybe tomorrow, Ziva won't try to kill me."

"What was that?" the computer nerd asked. She sighed, but said nothing. "I saw your wrist, Lacey; I know what happened."

"No," she groaned, "you really don't."

McGee stared at her. "Try me." His blue-green eyes pierced hers, his face somber, as he pressed her for answers. "I've known Ziva for almost five six years. If there was a misunderstanding, I'm pretty sure I could fix it, if not Tony."

"You can't tell Tony, though. That's the thing."

Tim shook his head. "I can't _not_ tell him, especially if it's going to interfere with this case." He sighed. "But I think you should."

Lacey chuckled. "Oh, there's plenty that could interfere. But I'm not going to let it."

McGee didn't ask.

* * *

"Abby," Ziva murmured, easing into the forensics lab, "are you free tonight? There is a show I thought you may want to see, and—" She came to a sudden stop when she saw the blond haired woman standing next to who she had previously considered her 'best friend'. "Lacey." She didn't try to cover the disdain in her voice.

Abby jumped up and down. "Yes, yes, yes! I would love to! Only…" She glanced at Lacey and then back at Ziva. "Unfortunately, I have Lacey-Duty tonight, so she would have to come, too."

The former-Mossad agent held a straight face and stared directly at Lacey. Hadn't she just spent the previous evening with Abby? Or had that been McGee? No, because that had been the first night of her safety-plan, staying at McGee's house. It was two days into it, now. Lacey definitely should have been at Abby's. Ziva opened her mouth to say something about it, but instead just murmured, "That would be…fine." Biting back a less-than-polite comment, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the lab to the elevators, so that she could think in peace.

Once inside the safety of the metal doors, somewhere between the basement and the first floor, she pulled the safety key and felt the elevator come to a grinding halt. She paced between the walls, huffing as she thought.

It was bad enough that Lacey had stolen her partner's affections. After the Brenda Bittner incident, Ziva had wondered if maybe they could have worked something out. She cared about him and wanted him to be happy, not always living in fear that he was going to drive someone off the deep end. It had killed her when Tony had suggested they remain 'just friends', in an effort to not break the infamous Rule Number Twelve.

She had wanted to say, "No, fuck Rule Number Twelve; I love you, and we are going to date, because I know you love me, too!" But she had refrained, and only nodded sadly before watching Tony give her an apologetic smile and walk away.

Was this woman the reason he had given up on any feelings he held for Ziva? Was Lacey the missing puzzle piece? Now she was stealing her best friend, Abby. She was a life-stealer, a moocher, with an inability to make her own friends, find her own men, uphold her own life. So what if her department at the hospital had been shut down? So what if she had been some sort of nurse, and loved babies and children, and was a virgin, and was saved for marriage, and—She was a _bitch_. A lying, conniving bitch, that Ziva was intent on finding the real story to.

Her Mossad training had given her the ability to see through a lie. Ziva was ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent positive that Lacey was lying about pretty much everything. Even her nurse persona. Loving Tony might be real, because rarely can someone fake that. She shuddered, remembering Michael, before turning her thoughts to the fact that if this short, blond liar broke Tony's heart, Ziva would be there both to pick up the pieces _and_ to tear Lacey to shreds.

_Who has a name like 'Lacey' anyway?_ she snarled to herself. On anyone else, she probably wouldn't have given the name much thought, but on Tony's girlfriend, all she could see when she heard it was _WHORE_, in nice, big, sparkly, neon letters, adorning the other woman from her perfectly proportioned forehead to what Ziva assumed were her beautiful pedicured toenails. Maybe they were even French-tipped, so that when Tony fantasized about what he wasn't getting from her, he could imagine France.

'_We've always got Paris',_ Tony had said. _Ha, yeah right. Not when little, perfect, blond women are involved_, Ziva spat inside her head.

And that was another thing: Lacey was short and curvy. Without the case file to refer to, Ziva imagined the other female to be approximately five-foot-four, at around one-hundred-and-twenty pounds. Tony had always gone for the obviously athletic, skinny women. Even Jeanne had been (relatively) a twig. So what was happening? Was this some sort of primal instinct? Curvier body equals a better ability to produce children? What was it?

Was Tony _actually_ serious about this…this…five-foot-four, blond, perfectly proportioned, Marilyn-Monroe want-to-be?

Ziva let out a sigh and slid down the wall. There she sat for a few minutes in complete silence—both mentally and physically—until her phone rang. She pulled it out and saw it was Gibbs. "Yes, Boss?"

"Get out of the elevator. Other people need to use it, y'know." And then he hung up.

Like so many other people in her life, Gibbs had left her hanging, and Ziva had never felt more alone. Flipping the safety key again, she rode upstairs, hopped out of the elevator, and strode to her desk, noticing Tony was looking very grumpy sitting behind his.

Maybe this feeling about Lacey was contagious. Maybe, if Blondie hung around a little longer, Ziva's feelings about her would be absorbed by some sort of Osmosis and by the end of her stay, no one would like her. Smiling to herself, Ziva sat down and began to work, ignoring the confused (and very cute) expression on Tony's face.

* * *

"I know, Sally," the woman whispered into the telephone, "but you don't understand. I need a few more weeks, okay?" Whoever was on the other line snapped a response. "_No_, Sally, please, don't! I'll get you the story. But it might be surprising to you. DiNozzo's actually _really_ sweet, alright? And he's already saved me once from—" 'Sally' cut her off and the woman had to start again. "My job at the NICU isn't secure right now. Don't you watch the news? Someone shot out the—Yes, ma'am." And then all she heard was a click, a click that signaled the end of the call.

"Lacey?" Abby said, walking into her lab. "Did you say something?"

Lacey shook her head. "Nope, wasn't me."

"Hm…" The Goth shrugged and sipped on her Caf-Pow! before saying, "So, I have to tell you a little story."

"About what?" Preppy stood next to Goth, taking a long slurp of her own Caf-Pow!

Abby breathed in deeply and slowly before blurting, "Tony and Ziva used to love each other." This was the information Lacey had wanted. Dirty little secrets like this. She gestured for Abby to continue. "That's why Ziva doesn't like you, I think. So be careful."

"Why?" Lacey asked. "Bad temper?" Abby nodded. "Well, I can handle that. I _was_ in the Navy, after all."

Kind of.

* * *

"You told her that I loved _Ziva_?" Tony fumed. "Abby, why would you—"

Abby held up a hand, stopping Tony mid-sentence. She then turned and put two earplugs in her ears, and gestured for him to continue. He just looked at her as though she was either crazy or stupid, and stormed from the lab.

Honestly, Abby didn't like Lacey. There was something about her that was…hinky. Yes, hinky was the right word to describe her. She _knew_ that Lacey had been on the phone or talking to someone (maybe even herself…) and was lying about it. Abby didn't have time for that. No lying.

And Abby hadn't lied, either! The Goth comforted herself knowing that Tony and Ziva had, in fact, cared about each other at one time. You can't fake sex; it just doesn't work. They had definitely done something, and Abby was sure of it. And with Tony and Ziva, you don't do that stuff with just _anyone_.

So, when Abby had told Lacey that Tony and Ziva had once loved each other, she had been telling the truth! Sort of. What Lacey didn't know wouldn't hurt her. It was one of those 'Well, my best friend hates you, for some reason, and I don't trust you too much, but you're dating the best guy at NCIS, so I'll double-cross you for that reason only' things. Abby didn't have time to rationalize with herself. She had to figure out who had gotten into Lacey's apartment and report back to Gibbs as soon as she did so.

This whole dramatic business with Tony, Ziva, and Lacey's little love triangle would have to wait.

* * *

Tony approached his girlfriend awkwardly, rolled a chair over to sit across from her, and sat down. "Hey, Lace." She said nothing. "I know you're kind of pissed at me…" All he got was a glare. "Abby mentioned why."

"Mm," Lacey snapped. "Did she tell you about the fact you and Ziva have a thing?" Tony screwed up his face in confusion, as if she had just slapped him with some sort of whip. "Well, there again, you _would_ know, since it's _you_."

He shook his head. "No! Absolutely not. There's _nothing_ going on between me and Ziva. We're _partners_, Lacey, nothing more!"

The blond nurse stared at him coldly as she said, "Anthony DiNozzo, I know about you. I know _all_ about you. And if you're going to sit there and think that you can fool me, you're wrong."

"I'm not _trying_ to fool _anyone_, especially _you_!" the Special Agent insisted. "What's this even _about_, Lacey?"

She hung her head. "There's something you should know." He cleared his throat but said nothing more as she took his hand and continued, "I…didn't' exactly tell _you_ the truth."

Confusion and a bit of hurt swam in his eyes. "About what?"

"Waiting for marriage." Lacey said it as quickly as she could, in the way someone would rip off a Band-Aid—bluntly, as to be realistic about the pain, and quickly, to be over it quickly. "But it is _not_ what you might think.

Tony cocked his head, betrayal evident in his grey-green irises. "Then what _is_ it, Lacey?"

Taking a deep breath, she began, "When I was nineteen…" She trailed off, but he squeezed her hand. She had been so scared that he would be angry with her that she hadn't thought about if he cared. "When I was nineteen, I dated Adam Jordan."

"We know that," Tony said flatly. She wasn't in the clear yet.

"I was leaving to help my parents with Mission Work in the Middle East, that summer." Lacey's voice grew very quiet. "He didn't want me to go; he said that 'girls don't do that kind of stuff'." Tony imagined that Adam had used a different choice word than 'stuff'. "But I told him that I was going and that there wasn't anything he could do about it."

The older man arched an eyebrow. "You lied about your family's spiritual life. Alright. That's fine."

"No!" Lacey heaved a frustrated sigh and stared into his eyes. "Tony, Adam _raped_ me." It was as though she had punched him in the stomach and proceeded to kick him between his legs. The pain she had endured was transferring to him, and it was his turn to stare. He said nothing for quite a while. "Tony?"

"You didn't tell me." There was a slight accusation to his tone. "You told me it was a personal choice, not having sex with me."

The woman watched him with prodding green eyes. "Tony, I didn't _want_ to sleep with him. I haven't slept with anyone else since. I want—"

"No, Lacey." With that, he cut her off, standing and shoving the chair back in the general direction of McGee's desk, and stormed off toward the break room for some coffee.

* * *

"She lied to me." Tony ran a hand through his hair and paced across the floor of Ziva's living room. "She lied to my face. About everything. Being saved for marriage, never wanting to do anything...it was all a lie." Ziva could see her partner was distraught. It was obvious that he was upset over the ordeal and was going through a type of internal debate. She decided to try to get him to talk.

Standing, she stopped him mid-stride. "Tony, she...didn't _lie_, necessarily." The Senior Field Agent's eyes popped wide open, but before he had a chance to say anything, Ziva jumped back in. "No, Tony, really...It was rape, she said. That is not technically losing her virginity."

"She's not...saved, though."

"Yes she is, Tony. Don't you see?" Ziva raised a hand to touch his cheek lightly, and dropped her voice to a low whisper. "Lacey was forced. She did not _choose_ to sleep with him." Tony's face showed that he was skeptical, or confused, or something of the sort. "She may not be a virgin physically, but in her mind, she has never made _love_ to a man. She knows nothing about what sex is, just what it feels like to be violated." She swallowed hard. "No one should ever know what that feels like."

Tony realized too late that his partner knew what Lacey was going through. He cradled her against his body, wishing he could take that memory away. The memory he knew she was replaying on constant repeat under that unmanageable head of chocolaty curls. "Zeev, I'm so sorry."

"Tell Lacey that, not me." But she didn't push him away. She decided that maybe, just maybe, Lacey needed a friend, not an enemy, and she would therefore talk to her in private. Later.


End file.
